


get some

by spacebubble



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: (in an exceedingly intense way), Angst, Character Study, Guilt, Holding Hands, M/M, Mirror Universe, POV Alternating, Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Secret Relationship, Something Made Them Do It
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2018-09-17 13:48:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9327449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacebubble/pseuds/spacebubble
Summary: In the mirror universe, Quark and Odo crash into each other in multiple ways. Neither of them really knows how to react, but they keep on reacting.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> oh shit it's another WIP! there's no real plot to any of this, but it's vaguely set before the events of season 2's Crossover episode.

**** Quark has a bad habit of remembering faces long after they’re forgotten by others. He supposes it would be useful for a bartender in another life, but on Terok Nor, he feels cursed with memory. He tries not to get attached to anyone. Every person he meets is just another ghost in waiting.

His brother tells him not to worry so much, but his brother rarely seems to worry about anything. Quark wishes he had that kind of confidence. Rom never worries about things like walking down a corridor by himself. Quark supposes that’s what happens when a person gets used to protecting their older brother.

Still, Quark gets by well enough. He has nowhere else to go, so he tries to help others leave the station when he can. He lives in relative privilege, though he wishes he could use it to help the Terrans more. Life on the station would be more or less tolerable if there weren’t so many explosions during the week. 

Almost as soon as he thinks about it, he hears a distant device go off. 

Quark’s thoughts quickly shift into the present as the blast flings him into the air.

The yells on the Promenade erupt into a furious background noise that he barely registers anymore as he flies along on the overpressure of the resulting shock wave. He counts himself lucky that he was nowhere near the epicenter of the blast and hopes it won’t hurt too much when he inevitably crashes onto the ground. 

He still remembers the time he skidded along the floor of the Promenade and a piece of debris ripped through his shirt. The debris was bone. Quark almost fainted until he realized the bone wasn’t his, and immediately felt worse once he realized how relieved he had been. 

Quark shuts his eyes and braces himself for impact. 

He lands with a thud in someone’s arms, a someone who catches him easily, with only a slight stumble to betray the effort. A male someone, Quark guesses, based on the press of a hard chest against his cheekbone and the sturdiness of the arm cradling his back. 

Quark’s not used to being held by anyone, much less by a strong male someone. His cheek feels warm where it rests against the other man’s chest. He feels a faint tingle in his lobes. 

If he weren’t still in shock from the explosion, Quark might have allowed himself to linger, but the unexpected nearness of another body flusters him and fills him with an itching anxiety. It’s too much. He rushes to extricate himself and accidentally brushes against the other man’s hand.

A sweet shock passes between them - a buzzing, foreign warmth. 

Quark jerks his hand away with a gasp. 

Above him, the other man grunts in surprise.

He looks up and gasps again at the sight of an unfinished face. “Supervisor Odo!”

The shapeshifter peers down at him with bewilderment. “You’re the bartender,” he says, and he sounds far less irate than expected. “Quark, is it?”

Quark nods in a quiet panic. He doubts they’ve ever spoken before, but he’s certainly heard plenty of horror stories about the Intendant’s favored supervisor over the years. The shapeshifter had a legendary reputation for excessive punishment and very little humor. Not the best mix. 

His shoulders begin to tremble. Quark can’t stop trembling. He would hold up his wrists in the traditional Ferengi begging gesture if he could, but his left arm is trapped against his side.

In response, Odo tightens the arm around Quark’s back, readjusting his hold until Quark is nearly immobilized against his chest. 

“Something happened when our hands touched just now,” Odo notes gruffly. “Stay still.”

Before Quark can say another word, Odo grabs his hand. 

Another shock of warmth passes between them, palm to palm, and Quark flinches in Odo’s grasp.

“Does it hurt?” Odo asks Quark, glancing between Quark’s face and their hands. He squeezes Quark’s hand briefly and they both melt into the touch. 

“No,” Quark replies. He feels dizzy. The shock has settled down into a low buzz of pleasure gently flowing outward from his palm. He blushes. “Does it hurt for you?”

Odo scoffs, a hint of a smile on his face. “As if I could be hurt by anything that wouldn’t hurt you.” 

Quark’s not sure what to make of that. 

Odo releases his hand and the dizzy feeling stops.

“Interesting,” Odo mutters. He eyes Quark with curiosity. “Ferengi aren’t known for any telepathic abilities.”

“We sure aren’t,” Quark agrees. He doesn’t dare ask what shapeshifters are known for. 

Odo regards him for a moment. He takes hold of Quark’s hand again, more slowly this time, and interlocks their fingers together. 

The pleasure-buzz courses through Quark like a gentle wave. 

“Mmm.” Quark can’t help but smile. He forgets himself and relaxes against Odo’s firm body. 

Odo seems relaxed as well. He flexes his fingers where they interlock, transmitting tiny bursts of pleasure signals through Quark’s nerves. The shapeshifter smiles absently. “Perhaps it’s me,” Odo murmurs.

He lets go of Quark’s hand and they both make a disappointed sound at the sudden absence of each other’s touch. Quark has never missed another person’s touch like this before. It frightens him. 

“Incredibly peculiar,” Odo says. He frowns at his hand.

An injured Cardassian stumbles past them and Quark suddenly becomes very aware of the noise of the station again. He wonders how long they’ve been standing there as his ears become overwhelmed with the sound of pained moans and angry security guards investigating the attack.

“I should go,” Odo says abruptly. He releases his hold on Quark and walks away before Quark can say anything in reply. He flexes his hand and doesn’t look back. 

Quark watches him go, then looks down at his own hand, palm open. It feels normal again. And empty.

He flexes his fingers, frowns, and turns to head back towards the bar.

 

* * *

 

It doesn’t pay to be curious on Terok Nor, so Quark occupies his mind with his usual worries - Rom and Nog’s safety, station departure schedules, and any resources that wouldn’t be missed with a little creative accounting. He doesn’t think much about the hand incident until he sees Odo at the bar the next day. 

Quark’s breath catches in his throat as he watches Odo pause at the doorway. The shapeshifter glances around the dimly-lit establishment until he locks eyes on Quark.

The sight of him is stupefying. Quark has never seen Odo at the bar before. Odo infamously never needed to eat or drink, so he never had a reason to visit.

No reason until yesterday, Quark supposes. He begins to fret. Maybe the shapeshifter thought it over and decided he was disgusted by the touch of a lowly humanoid. Was Odo here for retribution? 

Quark stares at Odo, who stares back at him expectantly, as if waiting for Quark’s next move. 

In any case, it wouldn’t do to make Odo wait. 

Quark masks his nervousness with a welcoming smile and rushes over. “Supervisor Odo! How may I help you?” 

Odo eyes him up and down. “Give me your hand.”

So yesterday was still on Odo’s mind after all. Quark blinks. “All right…” 

He stretches his hand out and Odo takes it. 

This time, Quark is acutely aware of the sensation of Odo’s fingers around his own - the unnatural smoothness of the shapeshifter’s skin against his calluses. Odo runs his thumb across Quark’s knuckles, sparking minute jolts of pleasure as it travels up and down the dips and rises between his fingers.

Quark’s breathing goes shallow. He wonders what Odo is thinking.

Nearby, one of the Klingons laughs deeply, an ugly sound that makes the dark bar feel even darker than usual. Quark tenses at the Klingon’s harsh laughter, and Odo grips Quark’s hand tightly in response. It almost feels reassuring. It definitely feels good.

“Get a room, Ferengi,” the Klingon yells drunkenly. He takes another swig of bloodwine before laughing again.

Odo turns to glare at the Klingon. Then, in a ghoulish snake-like extension of skin, Odo stretches his neck over and across the bar until he’s glaring into the Klingon’s face directly. “Is there a  _ problem _ ?”

“N-no sir,” the Klingon says, terrified at the monstrous apparition hovering mere centimeters away. “I didn’t realize it was _ you _ who - that is, I was merely suggesting that you might, uh, desire some privacy -”

“Klingon,” Odo growls. “You may stop talking.”

The Klingon nods frantically.

Odo grunts, then withdraws his neck to its usual proportions. He glances back at Quark casually, as if nothing out of the ordinary just happened. 

Quark jumps at the screech of metal scraping against the floor and turns to see the Klingon scrambling to get out of his chair. The Klingon quickly leaves the bar, avoiding eye contact with Quark as he departs. 

Heart pounding, Quark looks back up at Odo in amazement. “Wow,” he tells him. “You’d make a killing as security here.”

“Security?” Odo scoffs, but the clear awe in Quark’s voice seems to flatter him. He smirks a little. “Such mindless work is beneath me. Better left to the Klingons.”

“Right, of course.” Somehow Quark feels free to laugh. He does, and Odo doesn’t seem to mind. 

Instead, Odo looks thoughtful. “Should we get a room, though?”

Quark blinks. “No, that’s not… necessary,” he says. He wonders if Odo knows what the Klingon was implying. “We’re just holding hands, it’s not like we’re about to have sex or anything.” 

A hot blush spreads throughout his cheeks as he contemplates the idea of having sex with Odo. It’s strangely not repulsive.

“Sex?” Odo sounds like he’s unaccustomed to saying the word. “Why?”

“Um.” Quark glances around. The rest of the bar’s occupants were studiously looking away from them, but he still feels too out in the open to be having this conversation. “Why what?”

Odo steps closer, looming over him. “Why would the Klingon think we were about to have sex?”

“...I haven’t the faintest idea.” Quark tries pulling his hand away, but Odo’s grip remains firm. “Um. It was just a dumb guess on my part.”

“But it sounds like people would ‘get a room’ for sex. So why would he suggest we get one if he didn’t think we were about to have sex?” Odo glances down at their clasped hands, at his thumb nestled between Quark’s knuckles. He rubs the small juncture slowly and smiles a little at the feeling it produces, then he glances back at Quark. “Is there something...  _ sexual _ about hand-holding?”

“Not necessarily,” Quark says weakly. He wishes Odo wouldn’t keep repeating the word “sex” so much. 

“Your face is darker than it was a moment ago,” Odo observes. “Why is that?”

Quark lowers his voice. “Can we, uh, continue this conversation somewhere more private?”

“You humanoids and your need for privacy,” Odo says mildly. Quark’s surprised the shapeshifter doesn’t sound more disdainful. He supposes it’s another after-effect of whatever connection was developing between them. 

In any case, Quark feels more entitled to say what’s on his mind: “I don’t know about _ other  _ humanoids,” he tells Odo. “But I do know that  _ I’d _ rather talk somewhere else.”

“Hmph. Very well.” Odo smirks again. It almost looks like a regular smile.

 

* * *

 

The back room is the closest private location that Quark’s pleasure-addled brain can recall. Odo seems intent on minimizing the personal distance between them - their shoulders keep bumping together every step of the way. All the while, Odo keeps massaging his hand, maintaining a constant stream of light-headed warmth. Quark’s imagination begins to accelerate, luring him with thoughts of stolen kisses and dark temptations. He doesn’t even know what he wants, he’s so inexperienced. 

“What are you thinking?” Odo asks lowly, ducking his head to speak into Quark’s ear.

Quark shivers. “That this is all new to me.”

“New to me as well,” Odo remarks. He sounds indulgent. Almost tender. “I don’t make a habit of touching humanoids directly.”

“Neither do I,” Quark says quietly. He glances back at Odo as they approach the door. Odo’s frowning, lost in thought. “What?”

“Maybe it’s the both of us,” Odo says slowly. 

“It’s possible,” Quark replies. He fumbles slightly with the lock, distracted by Odo’s proximity. 

They step inside the back room and Quark finds himself doubting everything - he can’t comprehend the possibility of Odo actually wanting him of his own volition. Maybe it was wormhole aliens. Maybe yesterday’s explosion had altered their chemistry and seeped through their nerves somehow. Did Odo even have a nervous system? 

Odo grunts, apparently impatient with Quark’s silence. Almost as an afterthought, Odo remarks, “I’ve tried touching other humanoids’ hands since I left you yesterday. Different individuals from different species.” He continues massaging Quark’s hand, seemingly content to do so indefinitely. “None of them produce the same effect.”

“Oh.” Quark’s starting to feel faint. He stumbles slightly as he pulls Odo over to the side of the room. He rests his back against the wall for support. “Just me then.”

“Just you.” Odo leans against the wall as well, eyes burning into Quark’s line of sight. 

Another warm feeling spreads through Quark, and he knows it’s not from his hand.

Odo tilts his head. “Your face has gotten darker again. What does it mean?”

“Oh, right. We were going to talk about that.” Quark’s heart is beating like a hammer. “The blood’s rushed up,” he says weakly. “I guess I’m feeling a sexual reaction to you holding my hand.” He laughs shakily. “Maybe I’ve gone Vulcan.”

“I don’t understand.” 

“The hand holding,” Quark explains. “I thought hands were erogenous zones only for Vulcans. Romulans, too, I guess.”

“Erogenous?” Odo examines their hands again. He manipulates his fingers until he’s sliding them down Quark’s palm, lines of pleasure traveling down Quark’s skin along with Odo’s fingertips. Slowly, Odo trails his fingers past Quark’s palm to encircle Quark’s wrist.

Quark moans softly and Odo suddenly leans harder on the wall, clearly also affected.

“It’s not only the hands,” Odo rasps. He pulls Quark’s wrist towards him until Quark is palming Odo’s chest, and they both shudder. Warmth emanates from where Quark’s hand touches Odo. “I think it’s the contact your skin has with me in general.” Odo smiles a crooked smile. “And I’m essentially all skin.” 

“Oh,” Quark says in a daze, face flaming, fingertips tingling. “So it doesn’t matter which part of you I touch.”

“But it might matter which part of  _ you _ I touch,” Odo muses. He maintains his hold on Quark’s wrist as he slowly lifts Quark’s hand away from himself. “What are the Ferengi erogenous zones?”

Quark grins. An impish impulse takes over. He tilts his head and watches Odo lean closer to him. “Guess.”

“Is it the neck?” Odo asks, peering inquisitively at the skin above Quark’s collarless neckline. “Cardassians seem to be incapacitated whenever someone touches them there.”

“Ferengi aren’t that similar to Cardassians,” Quark says with a smile. “But you can try.” 

Odo dips his face to nuzzle Quark’s neck. 

“Oh!” Quark’s eyes flutter shut. He trembles where he’s pinned between Odo and the wall, unreasonably turned on by Odo’s exploration. He feels Odo’s lips brush against his skin and he whimpers brokenly. “That’s not supposed to happen,” he says helplessly, “Ferengi shouldn’t - that’s not -”

“Maybe you’re wrong,” Odo says, voice low and gravelly. He mouths Quark’s neck, trailing upwards, each nuzzle burning as he drifts along Quark’s skin.

Quark bites off another whimper as he twitches underneath Odo’s attention. Somehow he couldn’t imagine Odo ever necking anyone. “Where did you - ah! - learn how to…”

“Saw the Intendant doing this to someone,” Odo murmurs. “It seemed to please them.” He chuckles as he provokes another whimper out of Quark, but Quark can’t help noticing Odo’s body shake against him in turn. “I think,” Odo says haltingly, “it’s pleasing me as well.”

“Then we’re even,” Quark groans. He fights the overpowering need to oo-mox himself to completion. It’s been too long since anyone’s touched him like this and he doesn’t want it to end too soon. He impulsively winds his free hand in Odo’s hair and tugs Odo’s head away from his neck. 

For a second, Quark freezes at the realization of what he’s done - but Odo merely gazes back at him, waiting for more.  

It’s a power Quark has never had before. He bites his lip at the sight before him. He feels like he’s holding a wild animal by the leash, barely restrained. 

He swallows hard, then brings Odo’s face to his for a hungry kiss.

They both groan into each other’s mouths as the kiss ignites a feedback loop of pleasure that shoots through Quark’s nerves. Quark whines as Odo presses him against the wall, both of them hungering to get closer, grinding against each other desperately. Odo’s knee slips between his thighs and Quark rides up Odo’s leg with a frustrated little noise. He digs his fingers into Odo’s hair as Odo pins his other hand against the wall. 

The hand on Quark’s wrist trembles and shifts in and out of solidity as Odo struggles to keep himself together. Quark feels a flash of pride at turning Odo into such a mess.

He wonders what would happen if Odo touched his ear. 

Hesitantly, Quark sways his head towards his pinned wrist and grazes Odo’s hand against his lobes. 

The sudden burst of pleasure turns Quark’s legs to jelly. He collapses heavily against Odo’s body and moans brokenly, chest heaving, breath coming in short gasps. “Odo,” he whimpers desperately, “I’m -”

With a feral growl, Odo releases Quark’s wrist to stroke his melting hand along Quark’s ear. 

Quark cries out and jerks sharply against Odo’s body as his arousal crests and crashes within him. He clings onto Odo as they both slide down the wall, until Quark’s lying wrecked on the floor, panting, tears stinging his eyes in the aftermath of his release.

It isn’t until he opens his eyes again that he realizes Odo has seemingly melted around him in an even bigger mess, completely liquid past the torso, looking like a person crawling out of a mythic golden spring. Quark feels like he’s dreaming as he examines the scene with half-lidded eyes - was this Odo’s natural state?

The shapeshifter’s head is tucked into his neck. “Ears,” Odo mumbles.

“What?” Quark sits up with his back to the wall, and drags Odo up to lean next to him, or Odo’s torso, he supposes. His brain has gone fuzzy. He’s not entirely sure how it all works. 

“Your ears are the erogenous zones, aren’t they?” Odo concentrates and manages to reabsorb the gelatinous liquid back into himself. He re-forms his legs and mirrors Quark’s sitting position. 

Quark laughs, delighted at the display. It’s like magic.

“Quark,” Odo says impatiently, prompting. “Ears?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. They are.”

“I guessed wrong, then.” Odo smiles. He doesn’t seem angry about it. “But maybe it’s best we didn’t start with them.”

“Seems that way.” Quark blushes again. “Uh. This was nice. This was… really nice.”

“Is there more?”

Quark’s mouth goes dry. “What do you mean?”

“More we can do.” Odo’s gaze burns through Quark. “To each other. Sexually.”

It was criminally unfair how such a simple train of thought could arouse Quark so badly. But another thought intrudes on his mind, cutting through the arousal. 

This was Odo, the shapeshifter who punished Terrans indiscriminately, efficient and ruthless as he carried out the Intendant’s orders. Odo, the shapeshifter who could scare Klingons without even laying a finger on them because they were so terrified of his freakish power. 

Odo, the shapeshifter who just gave Quark the best orgasm of his life.

“Quark?”

“Supervisor Odo,” Quark says faintly, “I don’t think we should see each other again.”

“What?” Odo looks hurt and Quark immediately feels guilty. “Why?”

“Because…” Quark’s voice trails off as Odo reaches for his hand, tenderly holding it, gentle as anything. “I…”

He looks back at Odo helplessly, feeling wrong all the while, like he’s cutting off something new and fresh before it had the chance to grow. But maybe it’d be better that way.

Quark yanks his hand away and stands up, painfully aware of the dampness in his clothes, the tears still clinging to his eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out. “I can’t do this.”

“ _ Why? _ ” Odo demands, standing up until he’s looming over Quark, the lights overhead casting him in shadow. “Why can’t you?”

“Because!” Quark’s crying in frustration now, bitter tears betraying him. He takes in huge gulps of air, a panic attack fringing and blossoming at his throat until he’s hyperventilating -

Odo’s eyes widen in alarm. “Quark!” 

“Don’t - just go -” Quark can’t breathe, he’s -

Suddenly he’s enveloped in Odo’s tight embrace, his face pressed against Odo’s chest, and the feeling between them flares into a comforting warmth. His breathing slows down. He realizes this is what he felt yesterday, when he first crashed into Odo’s arms.

Odo slowly rubs his back and Quark exhales shakily. The backrubs lull his breathing into a steady rhythm to match.

“Just give me a chance,” Odo whispers. “Please.”

Quark is too exhausted to protest. He closes his eyes. “Fine. But it’s just sex, Supervisor Odo.”

“You don’t work for me,” Odo says mildly, “so you don’t have to call me by my title. Just Odo. That will suffice.”

“Fine,” Quark sighs. “It’s just sex, Odo.”

He feels the shapeshifter rest his head on top of Quark’s. “If you say so.”


	2. Chapter 2

They linger in the back room, surrounded by boxes, and Odo’s not sure what to do next.

He continues rubbing Quark’s back with slow and rhythmic caresses. It seems to help the Ferengi regain his composure.

Odo’s never particularly cared about anyone else’s well-being before.

It’s a new feeling.

He ponders the newness of the feeling as he ponders Quark’s words.

_It’s only sex, Odo._

He’s reluctant to press Quark for clarification, lest the words lead to a more precise and restrictive definition.

For once, Odo’s not interested in establishing strict rules. He’s content with leaving the future open to possibility.

He nuzzles Quark’s forehead absently and smiles at the glow that emanates from their connection.

Perhaps he can prove his worth to Quark somehow. First, as a sexual companion. Then, perhaps, as something more.

Things could change.

A pleasant thought.

“Odo?”

His name never sounded so appealing, coming out of Quark’s mouth.

Odo hadn’t particularly cared about his name before. It was merely a sound for others to use to refer to him, and he certainly hadn’t expected the scientists who discovered him to call him anything remotely meaningful. But now he adores hearing it from Quark, as if it were an endearment that belonged to him and him alone.

He thinks about Quark’s mouth, the movements required to formulate his name into sound.

He wonders how many ways Quark can say his name, and smiles again when Quark repeats it.

“Odo, are you listening to me?”

Odo nods in response and waits for Quark to continue speaking. His chin gently rubs against the top of Quark’s forehead as he does so.

“Hey,” Quark laughs weakly, as Odo rubs against more of his skin. “That’s not fair.”

“Hm?”

“You can’t keep doing that -”

“Doing what?” Odo asks innocently. He moves his face downwards in a languid nuzzle, trailing his nose against Quark’s.

“Odo,” Quark whines, barely suppressing a chuckle nonetheless. “Stop it! I’m trying to talk to you.”

“So talk,” Odo replies. He nuzzles the curves of Quark’s cheekbone unhurriedly, observes the way it makes the Ferengi tremble against him.

Quark bites off a whimper, then suggests, “Maybe you should pull away first - it’s distracting.”

Sighing, Odo complies.

The absence of skin against skin feels like something’s been stolen from him when he wasn’t looking. He’s not used to feeling deprived.

Odo decides he hates the feeling, but he can’t begrudge Quark for being distracted by his presence. It must be overwhelming, being the object of such superior attention.

“Better now?” he asks, looking down at the Ferengi in his arms.

Quark chuckles. “You’re still holding me, though.”

“But I’m not touching you directly.”

“It’s still distracting.” Quark wriggles in his embrace. “So, you know. You can let go of me whenever you want.”

“And if I don't want to let go of you?”

At that, Quark falls silent.

He’s silent for so long that Odo begins rubbing his back again, concerned that the Ferengi might be having another panic attack.

“I don't know,” Quark says quietly. “I guess I just assumed you would.”

Smiling, Odo leans closer. “What if I never want to?”

A conflicted expression twists Quark’s face. The Ferengi looks both flattered and frightened by the idea.

“That’s so unfair,” Quark replies.

It’s not the answer Odo was expecting at all. “What?”

Quark chuckles at his surprise. “It’s unfair,” he repeats. “You’re standing there all intense and brooding and immaculate, acting like you’re my… like you’re…” He gives up on trying to find a word, blushing. “And I’m here in my wet clothes, wondering how I’ll get back to my quarters without people thinking I’ve had an accident or spilled something on myself." He laughs a self-deprecating laugh. “And... now I can’t remember what I wanted to say in the first place.”

Odo glances down. He hadn’t been paying attention to Quark’s clothing, which he now notices is quite damp. He supposes it’s uncomfortable.

“Why do you need to return to your quarters?”

Quark looks at him as if the answer were self-evident. “To get a change of clothes, Odo.”

“Is that all?” He smiles. Such a minor thing. “I’ll fetch them for you.”

Quark blinks. “What? How?”

“I have my methods.” Doors never present much of an obstacle for him.

“But I… we’re not supposed to share our security codes…” Quark’s eyes widen. “You don’t normally go around slipping into people’s quarters, do you?”

Something about Quark’s apprehension gives Odo pause.

He considers telling the truth, that he does favors for the Intendant by accessing certain individuals’ quarters in the dead of night. But somehow he senses the truth wouldn’t reassure Quark in the slightest.

They’re only occasional favors. Not something he normally does, no.

“I don’t,” Odo says, carefully avoiding any additional words that might turn his statement into a lie. “And I wouldn’t enter your quarters without your permission.”

And that, at least, is true. He might not have any qualms about entering anyone else’s quarters, but Quark is an exception, and Odo intends to treat him accordingly.

“That’s a relief,” Quark says weakly. “Okay, sure. Why not?”

As much as it pains Odo to let go of Quark, he does.

“Wait here,” Odo tells him. “I’ll be back momentarily.”

Quark nods, an unreadable expression on his face as he watches the shapeshifter leave the room.

 

* * *

 

Entering Quark’s quarters had been easy. Selecting a change of clothes, less so.

Odo’s tempted to take his time and examine every single item Quark owns.

He feels a strange thrill as he walks through the rooms, imagining himself sharing the same space as Quark. He touches a table here, a pillow there, pleased to know Quark had touched those very same things.

Viewing Quark’s wardrobe feels oddly domestic. Odo runs a hand along the modest racks of outfits, the neatly folded clothes in their drawers, and idly pictures Quark in each item.

Or out of each item.

Odo lands upon a slim set of dark trousers, plain and simple.

He imagines sliding them off of Quark’s legs, accessing the skin on the inside of Quark’s thighs.

The bed looks narrow, but he’s certain they can both fit.

Odo shakes himself out of his reverie as he extends one of his hands and morphs it into a suitcase. He places the trousers inside and adds a coordinating jacket for good measure, and contemplates the image of Quark dressed in only the jacket.

The sooner he returns to the back room, the sooner he could investigate Quark further.

 

* * *

 

He’s relieved to see Quark still waiting for him when he returns to the back room, shapeshifted suitcase in hand.

“You’re still here,” Odo says, and Quark looks at him as if the answer were self-evident again.

“Where else would I go like this?”

“Right, right.” Odo opens the suitcase, smiling. He pulls out the clothes and hands them to Quark, who gives him an odd look.

“Where’d you get the suitcase? I don’t have anything nearly that nice - ”

In response, Odo re-absorbs the suitcase back into his hand, and Quark laughs in delight.

“Where else would I have obtained one?” Odo asks, as if the answer should’ve been self-evident.

Quark grins. “Guess I’ve should’ve expected that. Thanks, Odo.”

They look at each other for a moment.

Odo tilts his head. “Well?”

“Well what?”

“Aren’t you going to change your clothes?”

Quark blushes, and Odo notes how the blush travels past his cheeks to his ears. “Aren’t you going to turn away so I can have some privacy?”

That irritating humanoid concern.

"Very well," Odo says mildly, and he turns away.

He listens to the soft sounds of fabric against skin, and imagines touching all the places the fabric had been.

Odo supposes he should be alarmed at how so many of his thoughts were now devoted to Quark.

He also supposes he does not care.

The sound of Quark walking towards him makes Odo turn around.

“I heard your approach,” Odo clarifies, wary of being misunderstood. “I wasn’t trying to steal a glance.”

Quark grins. He readjusts the bundle of clothing tucked underneath his arm. “No, I figured. Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Odo eyes him.

They’ve gone far too long without touching.

He yearns for more contact, and he can’t stop thinking about peeling off the clothes Quark has just put on, layer by layer, until there’s nothing left to remove.

Surely it wouldn’t hurt to simply brush their hands together.

As he reaches for Quark’s hand, the Ferengi knits his browridges and steps away.

“What’s wrong?” Odo asks.

“I, uh. Need some time to recover,” Quark says.

Disappointing, but perhaps not entirely unexpected.

“I understand,” Odo continues, trying to sound sympathetic. “You’re weaker than I am. You need more time to recover than I would.”

A wry smile greets him in reply.

“But I wasn’t the one who turned into a puddle afterwards,” Quark teases.

“Only partially,” Odo corrects, but he supposes the Ferengi has a point. He’s never involuntarily lost form before. It might be best to wait. “How much recovery time would you require?”

Quark blinks. “What, you want a specific number?”

“Yes,” Odo says impatiently, and he doesn’t understand why Quark looks so amused.

“How about a week?”

Odo balks. “A _week_? You must be joking -”

He watches Quark stifle a laugh behind a precisely manicured hand. The aquamarine polish glimmers in the light.

“You _were_ ,” Odo says, relieved.

“Yeah,” Quark says with a smile, lowering his hand. “Sorry. Just wanted to see how you’d react. You looked terrified for a second.”

“Hmph.” Odo folds his arms. He absolutely detests jokes. Especially ones at his expense.

“Hey.” Quark steps closer to him. “Odo?”

“What, Quark?”

“I haven’t had anyone _want_ to schedule sex with me before.” Quark grins up at him, and Odo can’t help softening at the sight. “It’s different. It’s nice to feel wanted. I’m not used to it.”

Odo grunts. “You should get used to it.”

“How’s tomorrow? After my last shift. It’s at -”

“I know when your last shift ends,” Odo says, and Quark looks surprised. “What?”

“How’d you know?”

Odo gives him an enigmatic smile. “I have my methods.”

And his informants, all too eager to please in exchange for leniency.

Quark looks as if he wants to inquire further, then changes his mind. “Okay. After my last shift tomorrow, then.”

“Very well,” Odo nods. “Until then.”

They leave for their respective shifts, Quark to the bar and Odo to the ore processing unit, and Odo can’t wait for the next day to arrive.

 

* * *

 

The next day feels like the longest day of Odo’s life.

He emerges from his regenerative cycle thinking only of Quark and when he’ll see the bartender again.

Distracted by desire, Odo spends most of his shift at the ore processing unit only halfheartedly reprimanding the Terrans for their various infractions. Persecution lacks its usual sadistic appeal. Not when his thoughts are preoccupied with memories of warm touches and soft whimpers.

The Terrans nevertheless continue to behave in more or less of an orderly fashion, wary that his change in attitude was part of a grander disciplinary scheme, and Odo doesn’t intend to disabuse them of the notion.

He wonders what Quark is doing. There’s so much he doesn’t know about Quark’s daily routine, and much to Odo’s consternation, he finds himself wanting to know. First-hand, if possible. If only because he doesn’t know how he could possibly justify asking his informants to report to him multiple times about the mundane details of the station bartender's life. 

Time seemed to pass by slower than usual. Odo considers asking the Intendant if the station had been caught in some alien storm somehow, or if it might possibly be under attack by adversarial forces using a chrono-mutating weapon.

No one else seems to notice a difference, however, and he refrains from unnecessarily bothering the Intendant.

Not that they weren’t on good terms - he might even be the one being on the station that the Intendant considered a friend, as opposed to a subject to be ruled or a rival to be monitored and disposed of someday - but Odo knows it’s wiser not to bother her without good reason to do so.

They had even tried kissing, once.

Only once.

He had lacked the desire, and - as the Intendant later informed him - she had, as well.

She hadn’t borne a grudge against him for it, much to his relief. Odo had seen what happened to the people the Intendant bore a grudge against.

Instead, they settled into a genial sort of mutual respect. They acknowledge each other’s strengths. They leave each other alone.

Odo can only hope that the Intendant will leave Quark alone as well.

Perhaps the new Trill woman, Tigan, would help distract the Intendant. He’s seen the way the Intendant changes around her, the way they interact.

There might even be some real emotions involved.

He wonders if Quark would ever look at him like the Tigan woman looks at the Intendant.

Odo checks the time.

He still had hours to go.

 

* * *

 

Odo times his arrival at the bar to coincide precisely with the concluding minutes of Quark’s last shift.

There’s no one else in the bar as he stalks inside. No one else besides Quark.

He likely wouldn’t have noticed anyone else besides Quark at this point, anyway.

“Odo!” Quark calls out, flashing him a grin, and the shapeshifter stops in his tracks.

He’s never seen a more beautiful sight, and he wants to see it again and again.

What was wrong with him?

Why did he care so much about a bartender’s smile?

Odo hesitates, shaking with the effort of restraining himself.

He wants so much from Quark and he can’t decide what he wants the most.

He had thought about reaching for Quark’s hand to start, but the hand’s polishing a glass and Quark’s smile arrests him like nothing else he’s ever known, so he needs to do something about that smile and that mouth -

“You okay?” Quark asks, looking concerned. “You look a little… sick? Can shapeshifters get sick?”

“Then cure me,” Odo rasps.

He strides forward until he’s behind the counter, until he’s crowded Quark back against the shelves.

Quark blinks up at him, eyes bright. “Thought we’d relocate to my quarters -”

“We will,” Odo says. He’s trembling, which couldn’t be right, because Quark was the one whose body was a slave to its desires. “Soon,” he adds hoarsely, stooping down to caress Quark’s jaw.

A pleasurable warmth flares up where they touch, coursing through Odo like sunlight from within.

“But first -”

He tilts Quark’s face up for a kiss, almost melting against Quark in relief as soon as their lips meet. Quark whimpers pleasantly into his mouth and Odo tightens his free arm around Quark’s back as he presses their bodies closer, almost bending Quark backwards with the force of it.

A ragged moan escapes him when Quark reaches up to cradle his face, and Odo breaks off the kiss, surprised.

He blinks slowly at Quark, unused to the sensation of having his face held so gently. Quark’s thumbs lightly graze his cheeks and each graze seems to send sparks flying through his skin.

The Ferengi’s breathing heavily, but still smiling as he holds Odo’s head in his hands. “Guess you really missed me, huh?”

“Unreasonably so,” Odo informs him. “With every molecule of my being.”

Quark swallows hard, blushing.

“That wasn’t meant to be an arousing remark,” Odo clarifies, and Quark nods, still blushing.

“I know,” Quark replies. “I can’t help it. Kiss me again?”

Odo regards him curiously. “But you wanted to relocate to your quarters.”

“Still do, but -”

Odo doesn’t need any further encouragement after that.

 

* * *

 

Several lengthy kisses later, Odo’s temporarily sated enough to escort Quark through the station corridors like a civilized being.

He hadn’t been joking earlier, about being cured. Touching Quark again had healed a wound that had seared him from the inside out.

Vulnerability doesn’t sit well with Odo. He’s never been in such a helpless position before, so obsessed with another person before.

It irritates him. It seems unjust somehow.

Almost criminally unfair.

Odo vacillates between a vague sense of losing control and a far stronger sense of gain, accentuated by the shy hand Quark tucks into the crook of his arm.

 

* * *

 

The doors shut softly behind them as they step inside Quark’s quarters.

“Well, here we are,” Quark announces with a nervous chuckle. He glances up at Odo almost warily, as if expecting Odo to ambush him on the spot.

Odo’s been waiting for this moment all day.

He regards Quark in silence, noting the blush that darkens the Ferengi’s lobes as he does so.

“Odo?”

The sound of his name make Odo smile.

Odo palms Quark’s shoulderblades and rubs Quark’s back briefly before he lets his hand drift downwards. He spreads his fingers against the small of Quark’s back, unfairly covered by layers of clothing, and rests his hand there for a moment, marveling at how Quark seemed destined for his touch and his touch alone.

He watches Quark blink up at him, blush suffusing Quark’s skin like a summer sunset.

“What’s on your mind?” Quark asks.

He stoops down, a hair’s breadth away from brushing his lips against Quark’s ear.

“You,” Odo replies.

He chuckles lowly at the wordless sound he receives in response, and continues to smile as he guides Quark towards the bedroom.

*

It’s short work before they’re both on Quark’s bed, and Odo’s finally free to take his time.

The interval of skin precisely underneath Quark’s nose, the anonymous space by the corner of Quark’s mouth - Odo explores each and every part indiscriminately. Nothing about Quark is too insignificant for his touch.

He drags his teeth slowly along Quark’s bottom lip and teases out a soft buzz of euphoria. The slowness seems more potent somehow, transmitting a sustained burst of signals between them. Quark grasps at the front of his uniform, twisting his fingers in the simulated material, and Odo growls in pleasure at the additional sensation.

Quark returns Odo’s kisses with fervor, tasting the shapeshifter over and over again as if to reaffirm some initial finding, and Odo wonders how he tastes.

Each brush of the lips is potent and irresistible. It’s intoxicating. Odo wonders if this is what being drunk might feel like.

But he’s not so intoxicated that he forgets about the barriers of fabric between them.

“Quark,” he murmurs eventually, nose just shy of nuzzling Quark’s ear. “Your clothes.”

Preoccupied with carding his fingers through Odo’s hair, Quark takes a moment before inquiring, “Hmm?”

“They’ll get filthy if you leave them on.” Odo trails a hand down to Quark’s waist and idly notes the texture of the embroidery on Quark’s jacket, intricate and thick.

The image of Quark wearing only his jacket springs to Odo’s mind again, and he digs his fingers into Quark’s waist.

“Aren’t _you_ considerate,” Quark teases, eyes half-lidded as he caresses the back of Odo’s head, gentle waves of pleasure flowing down the nape of Odo’s neck. “And I suppose it’ll be more efficient if you help me take them off?”

“Now that you mention it,” Odo replies, “that does seem more efficient.”

He hikes up Quark's jacket to cop a feel, greedy in his haste to get at Quark's previously hidden skin, and the Ferengi gasps out loud when Odo slips a hand underneath his shirt.

Odo observes each degree of sensitivity with a near-maniacal zeal. How Quark arches sharply against him when he traces the diagonal pelvic line that begins at the top of Quark’s hips. How he wrenches a breathy moan out of Quark as he dips his fingers past the edge of the waistband. The sudden flare of energy that simmers through the both of them when he finally shucks off Quark’s trousers with rough, eager hands.

The way Quark just _lets_ him help remove his clothes, trusting and pliant, infects Odo with responsibility and jealousy all at once.

Who had done this before him, and how could they have left Quark alone afterwards?

Odo’s feelings fluctuate throughout a dizzying spectrum as he tries not to think about the unknown others who _must_ have come before him, all those petty thieves, stealing touches that could have belonged to him.

He handles Quark with care, and a small comforting thought occurs to him as he drinks in every little whimper and moan he can coax out.

Their loss, his gain.

*

They fight for control as Odo resists Quark’s attempts to tug his hand towards a throbbing ear. He presses Quark’s hips into the mattress and tries to express with his every action how much he wants to prolong Quark’s pleasure and feed off of it, like a famished wanderer finally arriving at a feast.

This was the rule he had established for himself, and Odo loves following rules.

His fingers are drenched in Quark’s preliminary emission as he nudges Quark’s legs open, taking care to skim the inside of Quark's sensitive thighs with the back of his hand, each knuckle brushing heated strokes along the skin. The slickness on his fingers feels sinful as he penetrates Quark, slowly and insistently, pushing inside the Ferengi with ease. Odo can’t hide his smirk as Quark clings to him in desperation. It reminds him of how Quark squirmed in his grasp mere moments ago, open-mouthed and moaning his name.

He mostly ignores how his limbs waver in and out of solidity, a simple after-effect of how Quark’s initial orgasm had nearly floored him with residual elation.

He tells himself he’s merely reflecting the Ferengi’s own helplessness in the face of carnal desire, because Quark’s the person most at risk from being overwhelmed by pleasure, Odo’s certain of it.

The thought reassures him as he twists his fingers inside of Quark with a mischievous gesture, eliciting a garbled sound of approval somewhere from the vicinity of his neck.

“You’re a _rude_ old shapeshifter,” Quark mutters petulantly against his jawline, and Odo chuckles.

*

Odo’s lost track of time, and he never loses track of time.

All his reserves of willpower feel overdrawn as he focuses on Quark’s reactions and chases them down to their supernova core. He immerses himself in registering the fingernails that dig miniature crescent moons into his rippling skin, the haphazard intakes of breath as he angles his thrusts and glides just so, the way Quark bites into his neck to stifle increasingly filthy moans.

He stops paying attention to his hands and his legs, even as they begin varying in shape. It's hard to pay attention to anything besides maintaining a steady rhythm as he moves in tandem with Quark, but Odo’s vaguely aware that he should keep his torso and upper half in a recognizably humanoid form, so he diverts the bulk of his concentration into doing so and allows his extremities to relax into half-constructed abstractions.

Odo hears a triumphant laugh underneath him as Quark grabs hold of his melting and shifting hand, and Odo’s amazed all over again at how Quark isn’t scared to touch him, to weave their fingers together until they intertwine.

Until, with a dangerously sly smile, Quark winks up at him.

Faster than Odo could’ve anticipated - and if his thoughts weren't dissolved into a fogged daze, he certainly could've reacted more quickly - Quark brings their intertwined hands against his ear with a deliberate stroke.

A jolt of strained energy pulses through their link and Odo gasps out in surprise, a choked sound, as Quark subsequently clenches around him and whimpers his release.

Pleasure cycles through Odo like a riptide. He rides the wave as it rolls through him, ferocious and seductive and far too fast, before it crashes and ebbs away.

He was foolish to think he had any control over this situation.

It’s the last thought Odo thinks before he melts away completely into his natural state.


	3. Chapter 3

Quark rolls onto his side and eyes the shimmering pool of shapeshifter lying next to him. He marvels at how the liquid hasn't spilled off the bed.

“Odo?” he asks sleepily, wondering if Odo could hear him in this state.

There’s no response.

He reaches out to touch the liquid, stroking it with his hand.

A dim, untrammelled glow of pleasure flows into him.

Quark smiles.

He wonders when he’ll see Odo again.

"I'm going to shower," Quark tells the pool, slowly withdrawing his hand.

The liquid lightly clings to his fingers before slipping away, seamlessly flowing back into the undisturbed surface.

As Quark rolls out of bed, he hopes Odo doesn't feel abandoned.

 

* * *

 

When Quark walks out of the shower, Odo's waiting for him outside the door, arms folded.

"Oh!" Quark yelps, instinctively drawing his robe more tightly around himself. "You're - you're you again," he says dumbly. "Hi."

Odo nods in acknowledgement. "Yes."

They stare at each other in silence for a moment, Quark blushing, face hot, painfully aware of being naked underneath his robe. Odo's face doesn't betray a single clue to his feelings at all, but he leans towards Quark minutely, attentive and waiting.

"Um," Quark says, still keeping his robe wrapped tight. "So."

Odo tilts his head and makes a neutral sort of grunt. "So."

Anxiety seizes Quark. He doesn't know what to do next, what to say next, and Odo keeps _looking_ at him with that unfathomable expression, like nothing else exists besides him and him alone.

"You didn't kill me," Odo says.

"Uh." Quark blinks. "What?"

"When I was in my natural state. I was vulnerable. No defenses. You could have killed me. Or had someone else do it." Odo dips his head lower, smiling. "It would have been so easy."

The thought hadn't occurred to Quark at all.

He frowns. Odo keeps smiling.

"Yet you didn't," Odo continues, fondness creeping into his voice. "You, of all people, had the best opportunity to kill me, and you didn't take it."

He says it like he expected Quark to take advantage of his momentary helplessness. Unnerving.

"Not my style," Quark replies with a shrug. The motion makes the robe slip off one shoulder, and he quickly reaches up to readjust it.

Odo's gaze flicks over to his shoulder.

Quark swallows. Odo looks very much like he'd rather Quark wasn't wearing anything at all.

The anxiety in Quark's mind starts to form concrete thoughts.

Shouldn't he be kicking Odo out of his quarters? What if someone comes looking for Odo and they get caught together?

He should tell Odo to leave. He definitely shouldn't let Odo stay the night. Shapeshifters didn't need sleep, did they?

"It's, um, getting late," Quark begins, and Odo looks surprised.

"Is it?" Odo frowns, asks the computer the time. He glances off to the ceiling, calculating, thinking. "Hm. I suppose it is."

"Do you sleep?" Quark asks. "That melting thing you do -"

"Regenerating," Odo corrects.

"Regenerating," Quark repeats. "Is that how you sleep?"

Odo considers the question. "In a sense. Why?"

"Just wondering." Quark shifts his weight from one foot to the other, unused to having a guest in his bedroom.

Before Odo (a time that feels increasingly distant to Quark), the last and only other time he's had sex was in someone else's bed: rough and quick and over before he knew it. He's never had to contemplate the possibility of anyone staying the night in his quarters, and he has no idea how to broach the subject.

"It's getting close to my bedtime," Quark adds, still reluctant to actually tell Odo to leave.

It doesn't help that a small part of him wants Odo to stay.

Odo waits for him to say more. He looks so attentive, leaning towards him so quietly and patiently, that Quark can't help feeling endeared by the sight.

He reminds himself that Odo isn't someone he can trust.

(No matter how gently Odo caressed him earlier, or how tenderly Odo had kissed him, over and over again.)

He should really think of something else to say.

"You mentioned sleep," Odo reminds him. "Do you need to sleep soon?"

Quark nods, grateful for the opening. "Yes, I do."

"I understand."

"Great," Quark says, relieved.

"I've overexerted you," Odo adds.

Something about Odo's faintly indulgent yet condescending tone made Quark bristle.

"Have you, now?" Quark asks, with far more attitude than he would have previously dared. He even ventures a teasing grin. "Because I think _I'm_ the one who's overexerted _you_."

"Hmph." Odo sounds annoyed at first, but something occurs to him, and he slips into a smirk. "I'm fully recovered, however. Can you say the same?"

A challenge.

"Bet I can," Quark says.

Odo makes eye contact. "Then you'd be ready for another... instance."

Quark grins. "If _you_ are." He takes another gamble. "If you don't mind turning into a puddle afterwards. Again."

Annoyance flickers across Odo's face, but it passes. "I'm sure it was merely a reflection of your own ecstasy, due to my exceptional prowess."

"Mm-hmm." Quark sidles forward. "And not a reflection of your body maybe losing control due to _my_ exceptional prowess?"

Odo watches him approach, then unfolds his arms.

Instinct nags at Quark to retreat, but another kind of instinct makes him stand his ground.

He stares up at Odo with a defiant little grin.

"You're deliberately trying to provoke me," Odo murmurs, reaching out towards his face.

Quark doesn't flinch. "Is it working?"

With a fond smile, Odo tilts his head and strokes the outside of Quark's ear.

Pleasure laces through him, a precision strike that makes Quark gasp.

His heart pounds furiously in his chest as he looks back at Odo, who's smiling at his reaction, but his face wavers at the edges, like ripples in a pond.

Odo removes his hand and the ripples stop. His face returns to its customary smoothness, solid as a sculpture.

"You're still very sensitive," Odo remarks, but his voice fluctuates a bit, just enough for Quark's keen hearing to detect.

"So are you," Quark tells him, reaching up.

He's barely finished tracing a line down Odo's cheek with his fingertip, shivering at the trail of pleasure that ensues, before Odo grabs his sleeve-encased arm.

"You've made your point," Odo rasps, and Quark marvels at how strong Odo's hand feels around him, yet how carefully Odo holds his arm, exerting just the right amount of pressure to hold him still.

Still, but not away.

Quark stretches his hand slightly, palms Odo's cheek. He smiles at the glow it produces, wants to melt into it.

A pleased rumbling noise vibrates through Odo's throat. "Quark."

Quark bites his lip, watches Odo's gaze drift down to his mouth. He grins. "What?"

"It's getting late," Odo says. "Don't you need to go to sleep soon?"

"Soon," Quark agrees, "but not just yet." He rubs his thumb underneath Odo's eye. "Do you need to regenerate soon?"

Odo harrumphs. His grip on Quark's arm relaxes. "Not just yet."

It's addicting, drawing out this warmth from their touches. But he should probably stop. Tell Odo they should both get some rest.

Instead, Quark says, "Carry me back to bed."

Odo stares at him in silence. Long enough for Quark to start worrying that he said the wrong thing. Maybe shouldn't have said anything at all -

But then Odo leans down and obediently sweeps him off his feet.

Quark yelps, throwing his arms around Odo's neck, a sharp burst of pleasure flowing from where his hands latch on, and Odo staggers as he walks, almost losing his balance.

"You're going to make me drop you," Odo chides, but he holds Quark securely, even though Quark can feel him tremble.

"You wouldn't let that happen," Quark says confidently, almost cockily. He gives Odo's shoulder a fond squeeze, and Odo almost stumbles into his bedroom doorway.

"Don't count on it," Odo grumbles, walking faster towards their destination.

 

* * *

 

He sprawls on top of Odo as they make out on his bed, Odo content to lie back and let Quark straddle his waist. Quark's naked thighs rub pleasantly along Odo's sides, which, like the rest of Odo's body, has been shapeshifted to appear clothesless. Quark idly wonders how Odo learned what to emulate. He'd have to ask sometime.

Quark's robe is slipping off his shoulders, barely covering him at all. Odo's hands slip underneath his robe, roaming lazily across his back, caressing Quark like he could do so all night.

They move in an almost dreamlike haze, Quark's hands reaching up to cradle Odo's head, Odo's hands dropping down to cup the swell of his ass. A rapturous warmth flows between them at each point of contact. Odo shakes underneath him like a leaf in the rain, but Quark's trembling as well, so it's hard to tell who's more affected. Maybe they're both affected equally, but Quark's almost certain Odo's the one about to fall apart, and he wonders if he'll end up lying in a pool of Odo afterwards, if Odo can even regenerate with someone draped all over him.

Quark's breath hitches when Odo starts pressing against his entrance. He clamps his thighs tightly around Odo's waist, and Odo pauses, uncertain, but Quark whines softly and grinds himself back against the intrusion, until it slips past his slick folds with a wet sound only he can hear.

Odo grips him and they both groan into each other's mouths as Odo pushes himself inside Quark, expanding to stretch him so precisely that it almost hurts. Quark spreads his legs to ease the pressure, and Odo begins shifting in and out of him. 

Each thrust stokes their shared bliss, until a sudden cascade of euphoria burns through them and Quark moans pitifully as he bucks back against Odo, his own erection dragging along Odo's stomach, nearly overwhelming him with sensation.

His entire body feels like it's about to overheat, so Quark tries to disentangle himself from his robe, twisting and gyrating to escape the now-restrictive cloth. Odo slides his hands up Quark's back to help tug the robe away, a long caress that makes Quark clench down hard with a frustrated noise, until finally he's freed and free to press his entire body against Odo's, reveling in the amplified stimulation. He could get drunk off this feeling, this irresistible rapture taking him over. 

But his second - or third? or was it fourth? - impending orgasm of the night is taking its toll, and he buries his face in the crook of Odo's neck, shaking.

"Odo," Quark whimpers, fingers digging into Odo's hair, panting against Odo's neck, "I don't - _ah_ \- I can't last - much - longer -"

He can hear the sounds of Odo's inner waves crashing, and he can feel Odo begin to lose control of his shape -

"Please, Odo," Quark gasps, "please, keep -" He cuts himself off with a broken moan as Odo makes a particularly deep thrust inside him - "for me, _please_ -"

He hears Odo chuckle into his ear.

"You'll need to take another shower," Odo says, dropping his voice to a dangerously low growl, and Quark comes with a startled cry, collapsing on top of Odo in exhaustion.

He shakes in the afterglow of his orgasm as Odo kisses his neck. But before Quark can turn to kiss him back, Odo trembles and melts away, sinking down into the bed, until Quark's lying in a pool of Odo's natural state.

He rolls over onto his side and the pool slips away to settle beside him on his narrow bed.

Quark's eyes grow heavy.

He ought to take another shower, like Odo said.

But it's getting late, and it can't hurt to rest.

 

* * *

 

"Quark?"

He wakes up slowly.

Odo's lying next to him, in full uniform, all in black, a fond little smile softening his face.

Quark blinks himself awake. "Odo? You stayed?"

Odo nods. It's strange seeing Odo nod at him from the same pillow. Somehow Odo looks both out of place and perfectly at home. "As it happens, my regeneration cycle coincided with the end of our previous encounter."

"Oh," Quark says. He takes a moment to get used to the feeling of sharing his bed with someone. With Odo. It's rather cozy. He thinks he might be liking it.

"I would have asked you for permission," Odo says, concerned with being misinterpreted. "But you were asleep."

Quark grins. "So were you."

"I was regenerating."

"Same difference," Quark says blithely. He remembers what Odo said about regenerating - and some other, blush-inducing things Odo's also said. He tries to think of something else. "What time is it?"

Odo tells him, sounding vaguely remorseful at the lateness of the hour, but it's still early enough for Quark to make it to his usual shift.

"You woke me up so I wouldn't miss work?" Quark gives him a quick kiss - nothing long enough to start another 'instance' or 'encounter,' but long enough to convey his gratitude, he hopes. Odo makes a pleased grunt in reply. "But what about you?"

The pleased grunt segues into a displeased one. "I told my subordinates I was attending to a private matter, and to not expect me at my usual arrival."

"Oh." Quark considers this information. An unpleasant feeling pools within him, disturbing his earlier coziness. "So I kept you from..." He bites back to the urge to comment on the Terran slaves laboring away in the ore processing unit. "Your usual schedule."

"It's not a significant delay," Odo tells him, but Quark's already seeing the potential significance.

The more he could keep Odo away from the Terrans, the better.

It's a noble thought. But it's not the only thought Quark has, and it's easily outnumbered by an array of selfish, completely un-noble thoughts.

"Well, I'm not going to delay you any longer," Quark says lightly, sitting up in bed.

 _For now, anyway_.

He throws off the blanket and shivers in the cool air.

The residue from last night lingers on his thighs and his stomach.

"I'm going to shower," he tells Odo.

Odo watches him get out of bed, then sits up as well. "Your shift begins in an hour. I could walk you there."

Quark pauses.

He thinks about Odo waiting for him in his quarters, far away from the ore processing unit. The eager tone in Odo's voice, barely masked by Odo's habitual gruffness. The coziness of not waking up alone. The gentle hands holding him close as he fell apart last night. How Odo almost tripped over himself to do what he asked.

It's an odd mixture of feelings.

"Sure," Quark says. "Um. I don't know if shapeshifters need to shower too, but -"

He makes a surprised sound when Odo almost instantaneously shifts over to stand next to him, arching through the air in a viscous blur of molten gold before re-solidifying into his usual form.

"I'll join you," Odo says, and he sounds so pleased to spend more time with Quark that it almost stings.

Odo's not thinking about strategy, or survival. He just wants to be with Quark.

A guilty feeling overwhelms Quark.

He tries not to think about it.

He smiles and reaches out for Odo's hand.

Odo intertwines their fingers before he knows it. A warm glow passes through Quark, traveling up his arm, making his smile genuine.

"C'mon," he says, and Odo follows him to the shower.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A smutless chapter, for once. Somehow all my pwps end up having some plot after all...

Quark drops his hand as soon as they step into the sonic shower, and Odo makes a disgruntled sound at the sudden loss.

"Hm?" Quark looks up at him, confused. "What's wrong?"

"You let go," Odo replies - wasn't it obvious? He reaches for Quark's hand again, but Quark pulls it back. "Why?"

Quark knits his browridges together. "So the shower can clean me completely. It can't when you're holding my hand."

"Oh." Odo supposes this makes sense.

"Have you never taken a sonic shower before?"

"No." Odo frowns at the thought. "I've never needed to. My body naturally repels dirt and other contaminants from its surface."

"Convenient," Quark says with a little smile. Odo can't tell what the smile means, but it's a pleasant sight. (Any smile Quark gives him is pleasant.) "Well, I'll show you how it works on a non-shapeshifter, at least."

Quark turns around, back facing the shower grates, and closes his eyes.

"Computer, activate sonic shower."

The pulse vibrations wash over them both, lifting a fine mist of particulates from Quark's skin, evaporating into the air like fog. Odo notices a denser cloud rising from Quark's lower half - more to clean off there - and feels a flash of pride. _He_ caused that. _He's_ the reason Quark's body released so much evidence of his pleasure. It's all because of him.

The shower's energy panels glow behind the grated wall, basking them both in light. Odo watches Quark's face soften and relax. He thinks he could watch Quark's face all day.

The light fades, and Quark opens his eyes.

"So," Quark says, "that's it. What do you think?"

Odo makes a neutral sort of grunt. "Seems efficient. You appear... uncontaminated."

Quark chuckles. "Well, that's one way of putting it. Hm."

Quark's browridges knit. He blinks, then leans over to give Odo a sniff.

"Huh," he says.

"What is it?" Odo asks.

"You don't smell like smoke anymore."

Odo's not sure what to do with this information. "Do I usually?"

Quark nods. "Like processed ore, I guess."

No one's ever told Odo what he's smelled like before.

"I suppose that makes sense," Odo says. "Do you mind?"

Quark tilts his head. "Mind what?"

"What I smell like." Odo folds his arms and leans against the wall next to Quark. "The smoke."

"Oh, no." Quark shrugs. "I mean, it's just... how you smell. I don't _like_ it, but I don't mind it, either." He laughs. "Guess the sonic shower worked on you after all."

Odo doesn't see what's so amusing about that. "I didn't realize I smelled like anything."

"Don't worry." Quark reaches over to lightly stroke his arm, too light to transmit anything more than a reassuring bloom of warmth, then lets his hand fall back to his side. "You didn't smell bad."

"I wasn't worried." Odo sniffs, but it's for show - he has yet to master the ability to shapeshift olfactory organs, finding them largely irrelevant in comparison to the other senses. "As long as you don't mind, I don't care what anyone else thinks."

"Oh." Quark blushes, and Odo doesn't understand why.

Before he can ask, Quark stops leaning on the wall and begins to walk out of the shower.

Odo immediately follows.

 

* * *

 

The walk to the bar is uneventful, even though Quark keeps glancing around constantly.

Odo finds such vigilance unnecessary, and tells him so - after all, _he_ is walking with Quark, so no harm could possibly befall Quark in his presence. He wouldn't permit it. And few things happen on Terok Nor without Odo's permission.

( _Or the Intendant's_ , Odo's mind unhelpfully supplies, but he already knows the Intendant finds Quark amusing, and only that. She prefers the more Bajoran-looking aliens, like the Tigan woman, who more or less resembles a smoother-nosed Bajoran, albeit with those unruly lines of spots.)

"It's not that I think you'd let anything happen to me," Quark replies, giving his hand a quick squeeze - again, just light enough to be reassuring, but not enough to initiate anything more eventful than a brief moment of reassurance. "And thanks, by the way."

Odo grunts in acknowledgement. "Then what is it? Are you looking for someone?"

( _Someone you don't want me to see? Someone who would want to see you, alone?_ )

Another light squeeze. "Just my brother. Or my nephew." Quark darts a glance back up at him. "I, um. I haven't told them. About you."

Odo doesn't understand why Quark is so nervous. "Everyone on the station knows who I am."

Quark smiles. "Not like that. I mean... you, in context of..." He holds up their intertwined hands. "This."

"Ah." Odo realizes he hasn't told the Intendant either. "I see."

"Haven't seen Rom in days, actually." Quark's smile fades. "I hope he's okay. Usually he checks in with me sooner than this."

"You've been otherwise occupied. Perhaps so has he." Odo scans his memory for what he knows of Rom, but it's very little - a typical Ferengi mercenary, nothing particularly remarkable. He generally doesn't keep track of the non-Terrans on the station, unless the Intendant requires him to.

Quark nods, but it's a slow nod. Somber. Upset.

Odo scrutinizes him, then ventures a gentle squeeze of Quark's hand.

The simple gesture has its intended effect. Quark relaxes. He smiles like he did in the shower, free of the grime that had settled on his skin.

A wild feeling overcomes Odo. He wants to do whatever he can to earn more of those smiles.

Perhaps he could help investigate Rom's whereabouts -

But something about Quark's nervousness sticks with Odo.

"You mentioned your brother and your nephew don't know about..." Odo frowns, lightly rubbing Quark's knuckles with his thumb. "This. Us."

Quark tenses minutely at that last word. Odo can feel it through his hand.

"Right," Quark says.

Odo scrutinizes him. "Do you want them to know?"

They're almost at the bar's entrance, and Quark slows down his pace.

"They'll find out eventually," Quark says.

That's not what Odo asked. "But do you _want_ them to find out?"

Even as he asks the question, he already knows the answer. He can feel it in Quark's tense hand. He can see it in Quark's worried eyes.

"Not yet," Quark admits.

It's the truth, and it strangely hurts.

Odo suddenly can't bear to feel the bond between them.

As much as it pains him to do so, he stops walking and lets go of Quark's hand.

"I don't want to make you late," he tells Quark, and it's true, but it's an incomplete truth.

"Odo?" Quark sounds worried. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, I -"

"You didn't," Odo says curtly, and Quark flinches like Odo's struck him, which immediately floods Odo with remorse.

He reaches out and gently places his hands on Quark's shoulders.

"Quark," he adds, in a softer tone, "you don't have to tell anyone about us if you don't want to."

Quark looks up at him with such concern - perhaps even guilt - that Odo wishes they could return to Quark's bedroom immediately, so he can reassure Quark more thoroughly. His feelings don't matter nearly as much as Quark's peace of mind.

It's odd, placing someone else's feelings above his own.

He ducks his head down and rests his forehead against Quark's, intending only to linger just enough to transmit reassurance.

But then Quark reaches up and brings his face closer for a kiss, and Odo almost stumbles in his haste to reciprocate, tilting Quark's head back to kiss him hard.

Quark whimpers into his mouth, tender and surrendering, and Odo's seized with several notions at once. Immense responsibility for this fragile creature in his arms, so easily overpowered and conquered. A yearning to dispense with all other concerns so that he can devote his entire attention to Quark and Quark alone. And above all, a selfish desire for more, always _more_ -

Then Quark places a hand on his chest to push him away and break off the kiss.

Odo grabs at Quark's hand, covers it with his own. He squeezes, reveling in the stolen warmth, even though it makes him ache with longing.

"Tonight," Odo says. "I want to see you again. After your shift ends."

Quark hesitates.

Before Quark can say anything to reject him, Odo adds, "I could meet you at your quarters. You wouldn't have to worry about anyone seeing us together."

"Not like now?" Quark asks wryly, pulling back so he can make eye contact.

Odo's not sure what he means, so he remains silent, idly rubbing Quark's hand as he waits.

Quark sighs, then smiles. He flexes his fingertips on Odo's chest, igniting five playful sparks. "Okay. Tonight. My quarters. Wear something nice."

Still uncertain, Odo glances down at himself, then back at Quark. "My uniform isn't nice?"

Another sigh, another smile. "I was joking, Odo. Don't worry about it."

He pats Odo on the chest, then slips his hand out of Odo's grasp while Odo's still trying to determine why his appearance would be a joke.

"Quark?"

"My shift's starting," Quark says, almost apologetically, and Odo briefly considers walking into the bar with him, maybe sitting down at the counter to order something he can never drink.

But he's due back at the ore processing unit.

"Later, Odo."

Odo nods, then turns and walks away.

 

* * *

 

The Intendant drops by unannounced.

"Just checking in," she says with a friendly smile. "How's my favorite supervisor doing?"

"Adequate," Odo replies.

"More than adequate, I'd say." She claps her hands, then drops them. "You seem... happy. Energetic. I like it. What's changed?"

Odo hesitates. Should he tell her? He's never kept any secrets from the Intendant before.

He doesn't want to think of Quark as a secret, or what they have as a secret. It shouldn't be something to hide.

He won't hide it.

"I've met someone," Odo says, and he suddenly feels lighter, like he's been transformed into a fine mist. It feels wonderful. He smiles.

The Intendant smiles back. "I figured as much! Who's the lucky - person?"

He heard the slight shift in gears, the swiftly altered speech mid-sentence. He wonders which noun she had originally begun to say.

Does she already know?

Instinct tells him to refrain from revealing too much.

"The bartender," Odo replies, making an effort to sound casual, matter-of-fact. "Quark."

"Oh I _do_ like him," the Intendant says. "He makes jumja tea just the way I like it." She drops her voice. " _Excellent_ customer service. I imagine he could do anything, just the way you like it."

There's a hint of something Odo doesn't think he particularly likes.

"I wouldn't know," Odo says, keeping his voice level.

The Intendant's eyebrows raise, briefly. "Well. In any case, I'm glad you've found someone." She smiles even more warmly. "I used to think you were completely immune to humanoid desire, Odo, but this proves otherwise. It's reassuring."

Odo's not sure if he would describe it _quite_ like that, but he supposes it's more or less accurate.

"Anyway," the Intendant says lightly, "I've taken enough time away from your duties." She unclasps her hands, straightens up to leave. "As you were."

He nods in acknowledgement.

As the Intendant walks away, she muses aloud, "A hot jumja tea _does_ sound like it'd hit the spot..."

Odo frowns at her departing back.

He knows as well as anyone to remain cautious in the Intendant's presence. And Quark is no fool. And, the Intendant is quite possibly the closest thing Odo has to a friend on the station.

Besides Quark, perhaps.

He wonders what Quark thinks of him. If they're friends. Or more than that. Or something else entirely.

Perhaps he'll ask him tonight.

Odo checks his internal clock, then grunts in irritation.

Far too many hours to go.


	5. Chapter 5

During the day, Quark listens for the sound of Odo's specific footfall, but it doesn't come.

Which is fine. It's not like he expects Odo to sneak away from the ore processing unit to visit him at the bar, and he certainly doesn't want to invite more speculation in case anyone sees them together.

No, it's better that Odo doesn't drop by. It's better that Odo doesn't waste his time during the day. He's got a business to run, customers to serve, and workers to keep fed. (And non-workers to help.)

It's fine. It's more than fine. He doesn't need the additional stress, and he can't afford running up more risks in his life.

(At one point, he thinks he hears the Intendant approaching - but the footsteps turn away before they can enter the bar. He's used to recognizing the sound of her particular gait. He can't have misheard. But maybe he did. Maybe Odo might walk through the door at any second, regardless of whether Quark hears him approaching or not.)

And even if Odo did visit him, what would they talk about?

Would they even talk?

Or would Odo just manhandle him into the back room and fuck him into another speechless mess?

Quark imagines being ravished against the wall, Odo's hands underneath his thighs spreading him open and lifting him up, then letting him sink back down...

He squirms behind the counter, suddenly has to make himself a cold drink.

 

* * *

 

Hours pass by without incident. The day continues without any word from Rom or Nog. Their absence worries him, but it's entirely possible that Rom's on another secret mission for the rebels, so Quark doesn't fret too much. It's only been a few days.

Quark locks up the bar without a hitch, then heads back to the habitat ring.

 

* * *

 

The corridor's empty when Quark turns the corner. It's still empty when he approaches the entrance to his quarters.

Quark slows down his pace.

It's usually empty on his side of the habitat ring by the time his shift ends, but tonight, the emptiness feels disappointing.

He thought Odo would be waiting for him. Odo had been so reluctant to leave him earlier, so Quark naturally assumed Odo would want to see him again as soon as possible.

Somewhat deflated, Quark continues walking until he gets to the keypad by the door. He's just about to input his code when he hears a peculiar sound next to him, like something's peeling off a wall -

And then Odo suddenly appears, peering down at him when he turns to look.

Quark yelps.

Odo takes it in stride. "Quark."

Heart pounding furiously, Quark asks, " _Where_ did you come from?"

Unfazed, Odo nods towards the wall. "Right there."

Quark glances back at the wall, which looks like nothing besides a wall, and wonders if Odo's referring to a hidden entrance - perhaps a secret panel of sorts. "What do you mean, 'there'? I didn't see you at all earlier."

But before Odo can explain, Quark figures it out.

"No, of course," Quark says dryly, almost compelled to grin at the sheer fantastical nature of it. "You're a shapeshifter, you can become a wall whenever you want."

"I didn't _become_ the wall," Odo noted. "I merely adhered myself to its surface. Camouflage. Like a Tarkalean raptor in the woods."

Odo's tone is so matter-of-fact that Quark can't help smiling. He turns back to the keypad, voice light and fond. "I stand corrected."

The doors swoosh open, but Odo doesn't seem inclined to go through them.

Quark stands there, looking at him, wondering why he's not moving.

_Unless..._

"Um," Quark says, trying to tamper down the disappointment threatening to flood him. "Are you coming in?" His voice sinks to an uncertain, quiet volume, as he contemplates the possibility of Odo wanting to reject him in person. "Or did you change your mind?"

Odo immediately steps close to him, crowding him back against the doorway, and grabs for Quark's hand. The rush of passionate warmth makes Quark go weak in the knees with a shaky sigh. He places his other hand against the doorway for support.

"I haven't changed my mind," Odo says, squeezing Quark's hand slowly. He leans close, lips stopping short of brushing against Quark's ear. "Let's go inside."

He pulls back, gives Quark enough space to turn towards the door, and they walk through the door together.

 

* * *

 

As they pass by his couch, Quark gets an idea.

Instead of continuing to the bedroom, he slows down, then stops, lightly tugging Odo back by the hand.

"Hm?" Odo makes an inquiring noise, turns to look back at him. "What is it?"

Quark grins. He nods toward the couch and tugs on Odo's hand again. "Let's go over there."

Curious, Odo follows him.

A playful confidence fills Quark as they walk over. Odo's indulgent acquiescence feels... freeing. Quark's never felt so free to experiment with another person's reactions before.

When they get to the touch, Quark stops walking, but he continues leading Odo by the hand, steering him towards the cushions.

"Sit," Quark tells him.

A flicker of defiance travels through their connection. For a second, Quark worries he's guessed wrong - maybe Odo wouldn't want to play this game -

But Odo sits down without a word. He holds onto Quark's hand without yanking it back down, so their intertwined fingers are at his eye level, like he's about to help Quark descend from a shuttlecraft. He gazes up at Quark with an indulgently patient expression - unclear why Quark wanted to relocate to the couch, but trusting that Quark has his reasons.

Quark bites his lip, then steps forward and lowers himself down into Odo's lap.

Odo makes a startled sound. "What are you doing?"

"Sitting," Quark replies. He settles down sideways, pressing his legs together and letting them dangle over Odo's knees, off the edge of the couch. Odo's thighs feel pleasantly firm underneath his own. It's almost like sitting on another kind of couch, or a chair perhaps. He leans against Odo's chest and Odo wraps an arm around him, holding him steady.

"Sitting?" Odo doesn't seem offended, just confused.

Quark grins. "No one's ever sat on you before?"

"No."

"Not even by accident? While you were disguised as something else, maybe?"

Odo harrumphs. "No. Disguised as what?"

"I don't know." Quark lets go of Odo's hand to loop his arms around Odo's neck, wriggling a bit to readjust himself in Odo's lap. "Piece of furniture? Maybe a chair?"

Odo's expression doesn't change, but his tone is completely perplexed as he replies, "Why would I shapeshift into a _chair_?"

Quark shrugs again. He thinks about old stories from drunken patrons. Maybe they were only stories. "Seems like it'd be useful. You could hide in plain sight, overhear all sorts of things."

"I don't like hiding," Odo replies, and while he sounds more irritated than anything, Quark blinks at the hint of something else in the mix. Something sad, perhaps.

"Sorry," Quark replies. He rubs Odo's shoulder in a consoling sort of way. "It's just that you make such a good chair."

Odo narrows his eyes slightly, like he always does when he's aware Quark is joking, but isn't quite sure if the joke is at his expense. It's almost endearing.

"I suppose that's acceptable," Odo says begrudgingly.

Smiling, Quark lifts a hand to smooth Odo's hair back behind his ear.

"That's unnecessary," Odo murmurs, tightening his arm around Quark. "I don't have a single strand out of place."

Quark sighs, then lets his hand fall back down to Odo's shoulder, a small bloom of soothing warmth flowing from his palm. "I know you don't. Just felt like doing it."

Odo grunts in a neutral sort of tone. Quark supposes he didn't like the implication that there was anything less than perfect about his meticulously regimented appearance.

It almost makes Quark want to ruffle his hair, or rumple his clothes, but the hair and the clothes are all shapeshifted extensions of Odo's body. There's no point.

There's probably also no point in asking about Odo's day. Quark thinks about how Odo might reply. ' _I punished fewer Terrans than usual. How was yours?'_

Odo tilts his head, examines him. "Quark?"

"Yes?"

"Now what?"

Quark racks his brain for anything else to talk about, but comes up blank.

He slides his hands up the sides of Odo's neck, then cradles Odo's upturned face, thumbs gently rubbing against Odo's skin. Odo rumbles pleasantly in response to the caress. Their connection blossoms where they touch.

So what if they didn't have anything to talk about? Odo wanted to be with him and no one else. Wasn't that enough?

"Now kiss me," Quark tells him.

He's already leaning down as he speaks, and Odo eagerly meets him halfway.

Kissing Odo still feels electric. Their lips tingle with little sparks of pleasure, like sipping from a champagne flute. Quark moves his mouth slowly over Odo's, dragging out the effervescent thrill. He twists around until he's straddling Odo's lap, thighs spread around either side of Odo's torso, enjoying the feel of Odo pressed against him.

When Odo tries to kiss him harder, Quark shakes his head and fists Odo's hair, holding him still. He's going to set the pace and Odo's going to follow it.

"We're taking it slow tonight," Quark says, loosening his grip just enough so that it feels more like a caress. He lowers his voice. "Understood?"

His heart pounds as Odo's hands settle on his waist. Odo holds him gently, but Quark can feel the tension in his hands, even through his multiple layers of clothing. He wonders what he would feel if he weren't wearing anything. If he might feel a flare of rebellion through their link, flashing from skin to skin.

But Odo simply nods, his forehead softly bumping into Quark's. And all Quark can feel is fondness. It humbles him. He loosens his grip even more.

"Understood," Odo murmurs.

Smiling, Quark flexes his fingers through Odo's hair, then cups the back of his head, bringing him close for another kiss.

 

* * *

 

They make out on the couch for a good long while, but it doesn't take much longer until Quark feels like he's overheating.

He reaches up for the fastener on his shirt, then drags it down, exposing his neck down to the clavicle, then his chest.

The movement doesn't escape Odo's attention. He leans close, then pauses, but he's clearly longing to lean closer. "Quark? May I?"

"May you what?" Quark asks in a teasing, light tone. He knows very well what Odo's asking, but he's feeling frisky, and he wants to play.

Odo's hands slide up his arms, then loosely grasp his wrists. They both stifle a moan at the sensation, then Odo tugs downwards, just enough to open Quark's shirt a little further.

"Well?" Odo's hands shake where they grasp his wrists. Words seem very difficult for him.

Quark decides to put him out of his misery. He nods.

In a flash, Odo's opened up his shirt completely, then lets go of Quark's wrists to slide his hands underneath the shirt, palming as much of Quark's skin as he can reach. Quark thinks he might even be cheating a little - Odo's hands seem bigger than before, extending to caress him and soak up as much of their euphoric bond as he can - but he allows it. A reward for Odo's patience, a consolation prize for putting up with him for so long.

He lets Odo slip him out of his jacket and shirt. Odo slides the sleeves down past his arms with a studious reverence, careful not to be too hasty in his eagerness.

His clothes fall onto the carpet with a soft sound, yet Odo's still caressing him.

"You grew another arm?" Quark asks with amusement, and he hears the immediate sound of something being reabsorbed.

He opens his eyes. Odo looks defensive.

"It was more efficient," Odo says. "But if that bothers you -"

"It's fine," Quark reassures him. Weird as it is to be with someone who could grow and retract extra limbs at will, Quark's kind of charmed by the notion. "I'm used to two - arms, that is, and legs - but your shapeshifting doesn't bother me."

A brief image of a three-armed Odo walking down the corridor makes him giggle.

"I don't want you to laugh at me," Odo says petulantly, a brief flicker of something prickly passes through their connection. "Two arms it is."

Quark stifles the giggles into a smile. "Sorry. I wasn't laughing _at_ you. I was just amused by a thought I had."

Odo frowns. He doesn't sound any less petulant when he replies, "I wish I knew what you were thinking. Always."

 _Oh, Odo._ Quark strokes his hair again, tucks the non-astray strands behind Odo's exotically smooth ears once more. He smiles. "'Always' is a little much, isn't it?"

Odo doesn't smile back. "No."

The conversation seems to be going somewhere Quark's not comfortable going, so he leans in for another kiss. He presses his bare chest to Odo's front and it feels like fireworks bursting all over. They both moan. Odo clutches him closer, crushes his mouth in a deeper kiss.

Making out on the couch seems to distract Odo from speaking any further, so Quark allows the intensified kiss, welcomes the open desire as it buzzes and crackles its way into him. Odo's hands eagerly roam along his back, then dip down to the waistband of his trousers.

Quark doesn't wait for Odo to ask - he reaches down to place his hands over Odo's, then helps him push his trousers downwards. Odo rocks him upwards to roll them down past his hips, his fingers trailing down Quark's naked thighs, raking thin lines of pleasure in their wake.

Some fumbling and clutching and manipulating of the limbs later, the trousers are off, and Quark is perched right above Odo's lap, completely nude.

"Bedroom?" Odo suggests, preparing to get up from the couch and carry him away.

But Quark shakes his head - he's already far too overstimulated, and he doesn't think he can make it to the bedroom at this point.

"Here," he says, and he pushes down on Odo's shoulder.

Without missing a beat, Odo shapeshifts away his uniform, and Quark lowers himself back down.

He inhales sharply as he sinks down onto Odo's length. That initial push still makes him tighten up at first - it feels so _intrusive_ , even though it's something he wants. Odo runs his hands up Quark's back in a slow, soothing caress, and Quark gradually relaxes enough to slide himself down further. He bites back a whimper and inches himself downwards with little rolling movements of his hips, until he's fully seated.

Quark's breathing grows short as he adjusts to the feeling of Odo inside him. He tries not to think about it too much, tries to just feel. Odo rubs his back and Quark shivers in pleasure as he tightens around Odo, lower muscles contracting with a faintly slick sound that only Quark can hear. It makes his ears burn. He clutches at Odo's shoulders with another whimper, and Odo growls his name into his ear.

Trembling, Quark clenches down hard, then cries out as a flood of pleasure overloads his nerves. Odo's reaction's even stronger - he surges underneath Quark like he's been buoyed by a sudden wave, and Quark moans at the reflected pleasure pulsing back into him. He begins riding Odo with a desperate urgency, all thoughts of going slow tossed out the airlock.

Odo doesn't complain. He trembles almost as badly as Quark does, can't seem to decide whether he wants to kiss Quark or nuzzle his ears, so he alternates between both, sensually capturing Quark's mouth before trailing a heated line back to Quark's aching lobes. All the while, Odo fucks Quark with deep, steady thrusts, like he's trying very hard to do what Quark wants, to _be_ what Quark wants -

It's too much. Quark comes with an exhausted cry, hands clasped helplessly around Odo's neck as he collapses against Odo's chest.

Odo nuzzles his neck, then spills into him with a low groan, melting away underneath Quark's spent body.

Even though Odo's no longer recognizably Odo, Quark doesn't mind. A puddle of regenerating Odo isn't going anywhere. It's staying with him.

Smiling, Quark runs a hand along the shimmering surface of Odo's natural form. Muted bliss flows upwards through his fingers and his arm. He supposes Odo's tired, too.

Quark's eyelids grow heavy. He leans against the back of the couch and drifts off to sleep.

 

* * *

 

"Quark?"

He opens his eyes.

Odo's shapeshifted his uniform back on, and (Quark glances down) has managed to pull himself back together, lower limbs intact. He sits next to Quark on the couch, an arm around Quark's back, and has apparently allowed Quark to sleep on him, head resting on Odo's chest.

Quark's clothes are still on the floor, folded into a neat pile, yet he's not cold. At some point, Odo must have picked up his jacket and draped it over him like a blanket.

Tucking the jacket around his shoulders, Quark yawns and cuddles closer to Odo, who makes a pleased sort of grunt. Their connection seems more serene than usual. Perhaps prolonged exposure has mellowed it out.

Odo lightly squeezes Quark through the jacket. "You should return to your bed."

"Here's fine," Quark murmurs, partially speaking into Odo's chest. "You make a good pillow, by the way. Might be a good line of work for you."

Odo acknowledges the comment with an unamused-sounding grunt. "I was under the impression that your bed was more comfortable."

"It is," Quark readily admits. His eyelids start to lower again.

"Then why aren't you getting up?"

Quark makes a sleepy whine. "Tired. It's so far away."

Odo runs a soothing hand along his back. "I'll carry you over."

"Mm." His eyelids are very heavy, so he closes them.

"Quark?" Odo gently shakes him. "This piece of furniture isn't optimized for reclining. You should sleep on your bed."

"Okay, okay," Quark mumbles sleepily. "Carry me, then."

He doesn't have to repeat himself - Odo immediately lifts him up, one arm underneath the crook of his knees, the other arm around his back, holding him securely.

Odo's quiet as they walk over, on the outside, at least. He doesn't say a word, but Quark hears a faint sound that reminds him of the ocean during a storm. It's louder in the ear pressed against Odo's chest. There's nowhere else the sound could be coming from, so it has to be from Odo.

Were Quark more awake, he might have asked Odo about it. But he isn't, so he doesn't.

It's not until Odo's set him down onto the bed and has climbed underneath the covers with him that Odo speaks up again.

"There's something I should tell you," Odo begins, and it's the last thing that registers with Quark before he falls back asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> to be continued as a side-project from my other epic quodo fic, basically. thanks for reading...!


End file.
